cleaning lady and vacuum-dog

whacky ponderings of drugs

heavy head,
stoned and tired
sleep echoes through my corridor head.
love, a treasure,
buried deep within my x-marked chest;
i stuck blades of grass in a picture frame,
because everything else went away:
like the cleaning lady outside my door,
vacuum like a pet dog,
pawing at carpet,
grooming it with its soft, snuffly nose.
mess cleaned and she went away.
vacuum like a pet dog,
hip-hugging, man's best friend.

lines in the bathroom, lines out the back.
waiting and shaking with a crazy laugh
filled with warmth
like a smile radiating from my muscles.
powder leaves the plastic surface,
like the cleanin lady outside my door,
and her sniffling, snuffling vacuum-dog.
sucked into a ten dollar bill,
with a whimper and a sigh,
the pup hops away with its owner,
the cleaning lady off to brush along
some other fool's corridors.

on the cold steel, the train slows down, a mile out from the station.
up hill, down hill, steam choking carriage,
searching for thrill in the click clack,
crazy rails of a cool powder train.
in the bathroom crushing pills to get you
up hill, down hill, with a steam choked carriage
and that cleaning lady outside my door,
she brought that dog,
and he was barking real loud,
makin' a fool out of me,
in the bathroom of that click clack,
crazy powder train.
hands scritch' scratchin' on the white sheets,
until in a moment, it all crumbles to dust,
ridin' on the wind's back,
leaving like they all do,
like the cleaning lady outside my door,
and that pet vacuum-dog of hers.